


Oops?

by puddinghead



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, bruise, hickey, i guess?, really gross fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddinghead/pseuds/puddinghead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hard lemonade happens; Tsukishima and Yamaguchi don't make it through the dinosaur special; Akiteru sees something he wishes he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Akiteru shut the door as softly as he could.  The entryway was illuminated only by the faint glow of a TV screen from the other room, and he smiled to himself, knowing what he would find when he walked inside.  Sure enough, when he crept further into the house, he discovered his brother and his friend asleep on the couch.  He smiled fondly at the two high-school boys.  This was a familiar occurrence, but now the two bodies were tall and lanky, no longer short and chubby with the remnants of baby fat.  He chuckled quietly, feeling a little bit old.  The longer he looked, however, his brain began to further process the scene before him, and his smile faded into slight confusion.

Several things, he realized, were very, very wrong here.

First of all, the two boys on the couch were curled into one another, Yamaguchi's head nested in Tsukishima's side, the taller boy's arm draped over the other's body.  Akiteru had never known his brother to let himself be cuddled by anyone, let alone willingly do so himself.  Even when he was little, Kei would recoil from his family's affectionate touches, scrunching up his tiny nose in distaste and embarrassment.

Second of all, the TV was still projecting the tail end of what looked to be a documentary special on dinosaurs.  Kei, his brother knew, would rather stretch his eyes open with clothes pins than fall asleep during a dinosaur show.  His parents used to not let him watch TV late at night because if he happened to find such a program (which the sneaky little bugger seemed to _always_ manage to do), stopping him from staying up past his bedtime to watch it was nearly impossible.

Third of all, it occurred to Akiteru that Yamaguchi was snoring.  Now, the kid had slept over enough times for the older Tsukishima to know that he did not snore.  On top of that, Kei was a very light sleeper, and Akiteru had learned many times to tread lightly (literally) when in the same room as his sleeping little brother.  Under normal circumstances, snoring, _especially_ as close to him as Yamaguchi's was now, would have woken him long ago.

Eyes narrowing as his brain worked through all of this information, Akiteru inched closer to the couch and finally spotted the missing pieces that completed the picture: empty bottles strewn across the table, which he had assumed to be soda of some sort, were now revealed to wear the label "hard lemonade" flickering in the TV light.  Upon closer inspection, he could see the corner of the discarded six-pack box lying forgotten on the floor.  Akiteru's face relaxed into an understanding, if somewhat disapproving, smile.  They sure weren't kids anymore, he thought a little nostalgically.  He wasn't even angry at the loss of his small alcoholic stash, though he would definitely tease the young duo about it tomorrow.

Satisfied, he began to continue his silent journey toward the stairs when he stopped dead in his tracks.  Was that…?  No, it couldn't be… Could it?  He backtracked several steps and, not daring to breathe, craned his neck over the side of the sofa.  There, exposed by the loose neckline of his shirt, shining like a hot coal on Yamaguchi's tanned collarbone, was a dark red mark.  And not the kind of mark you get by accident, that was for sure.  In a state of mortified hysteria, Akiteru looked frantically from the mark to Yamaguchi's head on Tsukishima's chest to the arm that was wrapped around his shoulders to the mess of bottles littered across the tabletop…

No one had ever tiptoed up a flight of stairs so fast.

 

 

When Tsukishima awoke, there was a buzzing in his ears.  It escalated to a dull pulsation the more his senses fluttered back to him from the throes of sleep.  Groggily, he lifted his head slightly to glance at the clock across the room.  8:55.  His eyes wandered to the TV next to it; a loudly-dressed man with an unfortunate haircut was promoting the wonders of what appeared to be a normal household mop.  It wasn't until Tsukishima went to prop himself up on his elbow that he became acutely aware of another body lying on the couch with him.  Not just _with_ him, in fact -- _on_ him.

In his _arms_.

He blinked down at the dark hair, the tan skin, the freckles.  Okay, his half-functioning brain concluded, so Yamaguchi was on top of him.  As Tsukishima's eyes slowly came to focus on a dark bruise that was blooming upon his friend's clavicle, a series of very unsettling sensations flooded his mind into abrupt clarity:

Couch.

Dinosaurs.

Thirsty.

Hard lemonade?

Hard lemonade.

Hard lemonade tasting good.

Hard lemonade tasting _very_ good.

Yamaguchi's mouth tasting like hard lemonade, which tasted _great_.

Yamaguchi's hands in his hair.

On his neck.

On his back.

Yamaguchi babbling incoherently while Tsukishima bit at his lips.

The words "gross" and "freckles" being heard in the same muddled sentence.

Tsukishima protesting that ( _oh my god_ ) he loved his freckles.

Yamaguchi giggling.

Tsukishima feeling the burning need to prove his point by pressing his lips to the first freckle he saw.

Then kissing it.

Then licking it.

Then sucking at it.

Then Yamaguchi _mewling his name_ \--

Tsukishima shot off of the couch as fast as his dormant muscles would allow.  He backed against the TV as if Yamaguchi -- stirring now with a groan as his head fell to the couch -- was a monster about to pounce.

"Tsu… Kki?"

"… Good morning," the taller teen blurted stupidly, body and voice uncomfortably tense.  His face must have been something else, because Yamaguchi rubbed his eyes and immediately settled into a look of distinct concern.

"Tsukki?  What's wr…"  He had subconsciously brought a hand up to scratch at an itch on his collarbone, but stopped mid-question when the itch turned to sharp pain.  Frowning, he strained his neck to see the source, his eyes falling on the offending bruise.  Yamaguchi slowly looked up at Tsukishima, his eyes searching for answers to questions that his sleep-laden mind hadn't formed yet, when suddenly, his face blanched.  Tsukishima swallowed thickly; he knew all too well the vivid slideshow that was undoubtedly reeling through his friend's mind.  He watched with rising nausea as Yamaguchi's face warmed from white to red in a matter of a few agonizing seconds.  Slender fingers still hovering over the mark on his clavicle, the boy on the couch spoke in a dry, almost frightened voice.

"Tsukki…?"

Tsukishima swallowed hard for probably the tenth time that minute.  "Um."

"Did you… Is this… Did we…?"

"I think…. Yes.  Maybe.  Er, alcohol… Happened."  His own lack of eloquence made Tsukishima want to punch himself.  _"Yes, it appears that we perchance made out last night and then fell asleep in each other's laps.  The alcoholic beverages must have heightened our affections just a touch.  Simply a natural occurrence between friends, wouldn't you say?  Now, shall we indulge in some fine morning cuisine and never mention this again?"_

"Oh.  Um… Sorry."  Yamaguchi was now sitting up, albeit rather stiffly, hands tangling and untangling themselves in his lap.

"Why are _you_ apologizing?"

"Uh… I don't know?"

Tsukishima licked his chapped lips, then cleared his throat and made his way back to the couch to sit next to his friend -- leaving more space between them than was necessary.  The pulsing in his ears had escalated to a rhythmic pounding throughout his whole head, and he ran a hand through his messy crop of hair.

"A-anyway," Yamaguchi exclaimed suddenly, with far too much enthusiasm, "that show was pretty cool, huh?!  D-dinosaurs.  Very cool.  I enjoyed it a lot!  D-didn't you?  Tsukki?"

A nod.

"Heh, y-yeah.  Next time, we'll have to stay a little more sober, maybe.  So we remember it better!"

A nod.

"Th-the dinosaurs, not the making out!"

A nod--

Tsukishima's head snapped toward Yamaguchi, who had realized what he'd just blurted out and was looking at him with wide eyes and a tight smile in what could only be described as sheer panic.  Just as they were simultaneously wishing for a truck to maybe barrel through the wall and put them both out of their misery, footsteps broke through the tense air.

"Good morning!" Akiteru greeted brightly.  Both teens turned to look at him in tandem, and it took exactly one half-second of seeing his nervous face to know that he _knew_.  He went into the kitchen without another word, and Yamaguchi and Tsukishima followed without looking at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think about it... Tsukishima thinking 'Yeah, why not," and bringing Akiteru's six-pack over, the two of them drinking timidly at first then realizing hoLY MOLY THIS IS GOOD STUFF, and suddenly an hour's passed and they're on their last bottles and Yamaguchi's giggling his freckly little ass off because T-rexes have such tiny arms...


	2. 2

The next week was awkward.

They continued with their daily routine: the walking together, the eating lunch together, the going to practice together.  It was all very normal to anyone who saw them, so no one questioned it.  But it was within their own little bubble that things were very _abnormal_.  It wasn't like they touched very often anyway, but now it was like every brush of the hand and bump of the shoulder sent a jolt of tension through them both.  They walked further apart than usual.  They had trouble keeping eye contact.  Their laughter fell quickly out of synch when Hinata did something stupid during practice.  In the changing room, Yamaguchi stayed turned toward the lockers and pulled his shirt on just a bit more quickly than usual.

It wasn't like they were fighting; they were just going through the motions of being normal while consciously side-stepping one another so that people didn't notice.  It was a furtive dance that they were doing, and after seven days of dancing it, Yamaguchi had had enough.

"This is stupid," he blurted out on the way home from school.  He had been walking slightly behind Tsukishima, who now came to a stop several feet in front of him.  He obviously wasn't about to respond, so Yamaguchi continued.  "We… We can't keep doing this, Tsukki.  It's weird," he admitted, nervously mashing his hands into fists by his side.  "We… W-we kissed while we were drunk.  That's normal, right?  I-it's not like people don't do that!"

Tsukishima hadn't turned around to face him.  His face was flushed and warm, and his heartbeat was unnervingly loud.  He had been thinking about this matter a lot over the past week.  Not necessarily the incident itself (because he tried pointedly hard _not_ to), but about the way in which they were reacting to it.  This had brought him to the startling conclusion that any other normal platonic male friends would have laughed about the whole thing and brushed it off almost immediately -- would maybe even joke about it later on.  Not be embarrassed about it.  Not _avoid_ _each other_ because of it.  And that had led to the even _more_ startling conclusion that his and Yamaguchi's reactions obviously meant that they weren't two normal platonic male friends.  So, which part was different with them?  Well, they were normal enough.  And they were definitely male.  So that left, to his horror, that word sandwiched in the middle, so innocent, so unassuming: "platonic".  And Tsukishima had spent the past few days recounting the experiences with his closest friend over the years that they'd known each other, and had realized, with a sinking sensation in his stomach, that he had _feelings_ for Yamaguchi.

Feelings that he hadn't _felt_ before.

And now here he was, tugging stiffly at his uniform collar because it was suddenly very hot on this cool fall afternoon.  Yamaguchi was apparently sick of being the only one talking and was now waiting for Tsukishima to say something.  The blonde finally turned around, sucking in a gritty breath through his teeth.

"… I think I'm the one who kissed you first."

Yamaguchi blinked, surprise temporarily overcoming his tenseness.  "… Um.  Okay?"  He thought back to his fuzzy memories of that night, his face starting to visibly flush.  "Y-yeah, I guess you're right.  Maybe."

"And I think I wanted to."

"Er… What do you mean…?"

Tsukishima sighed.  "I _think_ I _wanted_ to.  To kiss you."  There was no skirting around this anymore.  It was to the point now where, more than anything, he just wanted to get this over with, go home, and forget about it once and for all.  So, he might as well be straightforward.

"Y-you… What?  I mean, uh, the alcohol probably… You know.  Made you do it.  That's normal."  Yamaguchi was starting to sweat.  His toes were curling and uncurling in his shoes; one of his hands had made its way up his chest, to linger anxiously where his skin was still discolored beneath the fabric of his uniform.

"No.  Well, yes, the alcohol probably helped.  But I think I wanted to do it, regardless. Then you said something about not liking your freckles, and I acted on instinct, because… I like your freckles.  So I wanted you to know that.  And it came in the form of more kissing… I suppose."

Yamaguchi stared at his friend with an almost blank expression.  Had he really said that about his freckles?  It was true, of course, that he didn't like them; they made him self-conscious every single day, made looking in the mirror a struggle, made facing people harder than he knew was normal.  But he certainly didn't recall admitting that to Tsukishima.  He must've been really drunk.  Several seconds passed before the latter part of Tsukishima's sentence sunk in, and he suddenly cocked his head to the side.

"You… Like my freckles, Tsukki?"

"Yes."

"Enough to… Kiss them?"

Tsukishima had to look away, his blush deepening against his will.  "Apparently, yes."

Another bout of silence.  Finally, Yamaguchi found his voice again.

"I, um, don't think I minded."

"… What?"

"I don't think I minded you, you know, doing that.  Is that weird?  Sorry, it's probably weird -- I mean, I don't even really remember it that well.  I must have been pretty out of it.  But…"  He looked at the ground, resisting the urge to physically rip his jacket off of his body because he was so unbearably hot.  "But, yeah.  I don't think I minded.  … The kissing."

Yamaguchi's eyes were darting everywhere -- anywhere -- away from Tsukishima.  The latter pursed his lips awkwardly as he watched his friend.  Neither of them had said anything explicitly groundbreaking, and yet, he felt a distinct sense of relief wash over him.  After a few moments, the faintest smile cracked the firm line of his lips, and he turned around and began walking again.

"Ts-Tsukki?"

"Come on.  We can watch another dinosaur thing and actually pay attention to it."

It took Yamaguchi a second to register, between his burning face, his fluttering heartbeat, and Tsukishima gradually getting farther away from him, that he was smiling.  Feeling a sort of blooming in his chest that revitalized his muscles, he ran to catch up with his friend and followed him home, the usual chatter about their day coming back like it had never faded in the first place.

 

 

This time, when they kissed, it was slow and unsure, and when they remembered it the next day, it brought a smile to both of their faces.

And a look of outright shock to Akiteru's.


End file.
